“Can’t thee find some way of making a living at home? Maybe Elihu Penrose would like thee better than he does if thee could stay at home, as other young men do.” “How can I make a living at home?” said Tom, bitterly. “Can thee tell me of any way to make it?” “No; but something might turn up.” “I can’t wait for the chance of something turning up. I have seven hundred and fifty dollars to make in twelve months’ time.” Neither of them spoke for a while. Tom sat beside his mother, and she was holding his hand and softly stroking it the while. “Mother,” said Tom, at last. “Well, son?” “Does thee know what I’ve pretty well made up my mind to do?” “What?” “To go to Philadelphia on the stage to-morrow morning, and to take the first berth that I can get.” “Oh, Thomas! thee wouldn’t go so soon, surely! What would Patty do?” “Patty would have to bear it, mother. She’ll have to bear it, anyhow. It’ll be just as hard to leave to-morrow week as it will to-morrow. The sooner I leave the sooner I’ll be back, thee knows.” All this was very reasonable, but, nevertheless, his heart failed him at the thought of leaving. “Of course,” he burst out, after a while, “of course, it’s as hard for me to go as it is for her to have me go.” “I don’t know that, Thomas,” said his mother, in a trembling voice. “Thy life will be full of work and change. Patty will have nothing to do but to think of thee.” “Well, all the same, its hard to leave her, and the knowledge that she will suffer don’t make it any the easier for me.” He got up and began walking restlessly up and down the room. Presently he stopped in front of his mother. “Yes, mother,” said he, “I’ll go on the stage to-morrow morning. There’s no use putting it off any longer, and I’d be a coward to do so.” Then his mother put her handkerchief to her face, and the tears that she was keeping back came very freely. The next morning at half-past seven o’clock Tom knocked at the door of Elihu Penrose’s house. The mill-house was about three-quarters of a mile from the turnpike, and as he had to meet the stage there about eight o’clock, he had only a few minutes in which to say farewell. He walked straight into the dining-room. Patty was busy putting away the breakfast dishes, and Elihu sat at his old brass-handled desk, footing up his accounts. He looked up as Tom came in, and the color flew into Patty’s cheeks. “Thee’s beginning thy courting early in the morning, Thomas,” said Elihu, dryly. Tom vouchsafed no answer to this. He stood leaning against the door-frame, and his eyes were fixed upon Patty. “I’m going to leave home this morning,” said he. Neither of the three spoke for a moment or two. Tom stood looking at Patty, his hands clasped in front of him, feeling unutterably miserable. Elihu had arisen from his chair, and he and Patty were gazing at Tom, surprised at the suddenness of what he had told them. Then Elihu came forward and laid his hand on Tom’s shoulder.